


Dreams and Reality

by Figgyfan14



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Post Ceremonial Duel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7078297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Figgyfan14/pseuds/Figgyfan14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryou returns home one night and finds his Yami asleep in his bed. This can't be anything but a dream, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams and Reality

**Author's Note:**

> So, basically just an excuse for me to write porn, but there is also lots of cute in there, in my opinion, so I'm posting it! Possibly the start of a series about things happening after the Ceremonial Duel.  
> I just love this whole Yami/Hikari soul dynamic. And Ryou is so cute, so here!

Ryou feels like he's standing on the edge of a cliff as he stares down at the curled up form in his bed.

It isn't real. It can't be, but it is.

He stares, and his vision starts to blur, but he doesn't realize he's crying until breath starts to bubble up his throat and burst from him in great, wrenching sobs.

Brown eyes flutter open, and Ryou falls to the bed as he catches that gaze, collapsing onto his yami and latching onto his middle. He doesn't listen to the stream of surprised curses that leave the man’s mouth. He doesn't let go when the initial response is a struggle for freedom. His Yami is in his bed, wearing his pajamas, and Ryou can do nothing but sob and hold onto him like he would vanish in a puff of smoke if he let go.

That seems more logical than anything else Ryou can imagine, honestly.

The how and why isn't nearly as important as the solid weight Ryou feels wrap around his shoulders or the soft hushing that replaces the curses when it's obvious Ryou isn't an attacker. Yami and Hikari hold onto each other like they both can't believe the other is there, and Ryou would have it no other way. Bakura is his, and he is Bakura’s, and when he finally finds the strength to stop crying, he beams up at the scarred face of the other half of his soul.

No words come to either of them, but no words are necessary. For one beautiful moment, they can do nothing but absorb the feeling of being in the other’s presence. Then, Ryou is pushing himself up the bed, and Bakura catches him around the waist to pull him up, and their lips meet in a kiss full of tongue and teeth, hard enough to bruise. Darkly tanned hands tangle into white hair, and smaller, pale hands are skimming over that tan face, so familiar but so much more real now that it isn't just a spirit sharing his soul.

He knows it has to be a dream. There's no other way to explain it. Tears start to flow again as his mind catches up to him, and Ryou kisses his Yami that much more enthusiastically, as he decides to just deal with the emotional consequences when he doesn't have his lover seemingly in his bed with him. Even though it's only been a week since the final duel, he can't stand to let one moment of this beautiful dream pass without taking all the comfort he can from it.

Bakura doesn't seem to have any qualms about this decision, and Ryou doesn't notice that they're rolling until his legs are wrapped securely around his Yami’s waist and Bakura’s nimble fingers are halfway down the buttons on his shirt. The Hikari is quick to catch up, and soon they're both panting and skimming hands over skin they'd never thought they would touch again. Ryou can't stop the flow of tears leaking down his face, but Bakura just brushes them away with kisses, and neither can stop touching the other, both clinging tightly to his other half.

A pale hand fumbles at the bedside table drawer, and Ryou presses a small bottle of lubricant into Bakura’s hand, still unable to vocalize anything more than soft moans and needy whines. He doesn't need to speak, though, because his Yami knows his mind better than anyone else, and it only takes a moment before slick fingers are pushing into him, more gentle than usual, which just makes Ryou that much more certain this is all a dream. Three fingers later, he's whining and pushing against them, and Bakura is chuckling at his haste, swatting his hands away when Ryou tries to touch himself, then trapping his wrists beneath the hand not currently stretching him open.

The fingers disappear, and Ryou whines again, cut off as his Yami catches his mouth in another bruising kiss. He squirms, and moans into the kiss, but Bakura has him firmly captured, and he stops his squirming anyway when he feels a pushing at his entrance that’s definitely not the fingers that are gripping his thigh to spread his legs wider.

Ryou arches, keening as Bakura slides into him, stretching him wider than he seems to remember being stretched before. His hands are released, as his Yami runs his fingers through soft, white hair and over his face, before the tan hand skims down his chest and stomach to grip Ryou’s other thigh, pushing his knees to his chest. The new angle lets him slide in deeper, and the Hikari shudders at the pleasure pain of this.

Bakura sets a punishing pace, just as Ryou remembers it, his thrusts fast and hard as they rub over Ryou’s prostate and make him shake and gasp before sliding in to the hilt and pulling a moan from the smaller. A wicked smirk splits the face of the Yami at that sound, and he finally speaks as he leans in to nip at his Hikari’s long, pale neck.

“Still as much of a cock-slut as ever, hm, kitten?” His voice is nearly a growl, and it sends another shudder through the blushing boy. The first time they'd fucked, Bakura had mocked his Hikari for his sexual appetite, and it had been something that stuck when it made his cock twitch with interest, even as he blushed red within seconds. Now, the taunt has a similar effect, and Ryou whines again, hands scrambling for a hold on the sweat-slick back of his Yami. He eventually gives up and just digs his nails in, getting a hiss and another grin for the flash of pain.

Bakura slows the pace, but puts more power behind each thrust, and it has Ryou gasping and digging his nails in more with each sudden burst of pleasure from his prostate. He hasn't ever had a dream as realistic as this one, at least not about sex, and he finds himself losing his thoughts to concentrate on the waves of ecstasy his Yami is bringing him. He's overwhelmed, and it doesn't take long before his orgasm courses through him with such strength it pulls a scream from his throat and whites his vision. Bakura continues to thrust through it, whispering obscenities in his ear, and it isn't until the stream of cum has stopped splattering their stomachs that he thrusts in once more and releases his own load into Ryou.

They both pant and stare into the other’s eyes, but exhaustion starts to take hold, and the Yami carefully pulls out of his Hikari before rolling them over so that his bleeding back smears across the bedsheets but Ryou is safely cradled in his arms. The smaller boy takes a moment to smooth his hand through the shorter, grey hair of his lover, committing every detail of his face to memory as he lets himself slip away into unconsciousness.

Or consciousness.

He feels like he's floating through the black of sleep for no more than a minute before he surfaces. He doesn't open his eyes, but they start to leak tears anyway. There is no one in bed next to him. He's sore, but he was when he arrived home the night before as well, and he's had enough wet dreams to not be surprised by the sticky feeling on his stomach, especially after one so vivid. He knows it can't have been anything but a dream. A wonderful, terrible dream.

Sobs start to wrack his body, as they did in his dream the night before, but he can't even seem to breath around them, now. They choke him and he just cries harder for it. Then, suddenly, a hand is on his arm, sliding around his back, and another arm is under his knees, and he's being cradled like a baby against a strong chest.

It can't be.

Ryou shakes and whimpers softly, squeezing his eyes closed even tighter and refusing to believe it, until…

“Now, kitten, is that any way to thank me for last night?”

That rough voice is one Ryou knows better than his own, and his eyes fly open without his permission. He's being cradled against a tan chest, held in strong arms he could never forget, with a smirking, scarred face looking down at him under familiar grey hair. It wasn't a dream. Bakura, the Thief King, the other half of his own soul, is staring down at him, looking rather pleased with the gaping stare he's receiving.

“I-It wasn't a dream?” Ryou manages to get out past the lump in his throat, and a snort is his only answer before he's crying even harder than before and pressing himself against his Yami. “I th-thought-t I-I lost y-y-you!” He wails, and the arms around him tighten, even though the man says nothing in response.

They both know what he's thinking anyway, as he presses his lips to Ryou’s head and holds the crying boy. They both thought the other was lost, and it had been terrifying. That damn pharaoh and his games had almost been the end for all of them.

But Bakura had been granted this chance, and he took it. And he is never going to stop taking it. They are never losing each other again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I have some more written, so if you think I should post continuation stories with my other Yamis, lemme know! :D


End file.
